DiNozzo, Rule 1
by Shellie Williams
Summary: McGee and DiNozzo find themselves in a dangerous situation with only each other for backup. With each willing to give his life so the other can survive, will either of them make it out alive?
1. Chapter 1

**DiNozzo's Rule, #1**

Shellie Williams

**Warning:** Rated K+ for violence and strong language. This is pure H/C, folks. You may _think _you see a plot, but it's a figment of your imagination. The story begins in the middle of the action. How they got there is anyone's guess.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters or places of NCIS.

**Summary:** _McGee and DiNozzo find themselves in a dangerous situation with only each other for backup. With each willing to give his life so the other can survive, will either of them make it out alive?_

Tony peered cautiously around the corner. His eyes traveled down to the floor and his breath caught in his throat. Forgetting about safety and the fact that three armed men were somewhere in the warehouse, he broke cover and knelt beside McGee. McGee lay on his side. When Tony rolled him to his back, his head lolled disconcertingly against the floor.

"Crap! Tim? Tim, buddy, you with me here?" Tony carefully set his gun on the floor. He cupped one hand beneath McGee's neck and tapped his fingers gently against Tim's cheek. A patch of reddened skin adorning Tim's cheekbone and a split lip created a vision of a beating in Tony's mind. "Aw, Tim. Why didn't you wait for me?"

As if in answer, Tim moaned softly. Encouraged, Tony braced his neck with both hands. "Wake up, Tim."

Eyelashes fluttered and opened. Confusion gazed out at him. "Tony? What happened?"

"I think you found Frazier. How'd you get away from them?"

"I -- I didn't --"

"Then where --?" Tim's widening eyes and the way his focus shifted to somewhere behind him warned Tony an instant too late. He released Tim, but the moment his hand moved toward his gun, a voice spoke.

"Hold it." A foot entered his vision and kicked his gun away.

Tony held both hands up in surrender. A gun dug into his back between his shoulder blades. "Get up."

Gritting his teeth, Tony stood. He turned and found himself face to face with Frazier and two of his henchmen.

"Get him up."

Tony grinned and kept his focus forward. "He's taking a nap right now and I really think we should just let him rest. He's had a hard --"

Frazier moved fast. He punched his fist into Tony's gut. Tony doubled over and laughed weakly, albeit without much humor. "Maybe he's awake now." Turning, he knelt beside McGee. McGee struggled to his feet with Tony's help. His balance seemed off; he stumbled and leaned against Tony before finding his feet.

"Which one of you is McGee?"

"I am," Tony and McGee answered at the same time, then looked at each other.

"Cute." Frazier lifted his gun and held it to Tim's head. "Now, let's try this again -- which one of you is McGee?"

McGee answered quickly. "I am."

"Stop trying to be the hero, DiNozzo." Tony shrugged and grinned at Frazier. "He's always putting himself in harm's way to save others; it's just what he does. I'm Timothy McGee."

Frazier shifted his gun to point at Tony. "You're the computer geek who broke my code and hacked into my system? How'd you do it?"

Tony swallowed hard. "I _could_ tell you – but then I'd have to kill you."

Frazier's lips rolled in and his face turned red. He drew back his gun to hit Tony, but Tim stepped in front of him.

"I'm the computer geek. I bypassed your mainframe using a program I'd written. Once I got through your firewalls, it was easy."

"Easy?" Frazier pointed his weapon at McGee again. Tim took a step back. "Easy? You managed in one hour to bring down an operation that took me nearly seven years to build. I've got the Russian mafia on my tail and the West Side Gang ready to cut off my head. Easy? You've destroyed me, you stupid computer geek. I'll probably be dead by midnight." Fast as a snake strike, Frazier reached out, grabbed Tim by the throat, and pulled him close. "But I'm going to have fun making you pay, first." He grinned and took a step back. "Tie them up. We're bringing them down with us."

The two men behind Frazier reached for Tim and Tony at the same time that two others stepped out from behind them. Outnumbered and outgunned, Tony could do little more than struggle uselessly while his arms were pulled roughly behind him, and his hands tied behind his back. Beside him, Tim suffered through the same treatment.

The men dragged DiNozzo and McGee deep into the warehouse. They entered an office area and walked through it into a tunnel-like corridor. Faint light glowing from recessed bulbs. The passageway wormed its way through the long building.

Tony managed to glance behind his shoulder once and caught a brief glimpse of Tim. They were practically dragging McGee; his head hung low between his shoulders. He didn't have time to get a better view; his handlers jerked him back around to face forward.

The corridor ended at an iron door with a wheel in the center, reminding Tony of his days as an agent afloat. An old sign, faded and covered with a thin layer of filth, announced: Warning! Restricted Area – Do Not Enter. And below that, scrawled across the door in yellowed letters read: Condemned.

Tony cringed with the unearthly squeal that blasted through the corridor when Frazier turned the wheel. "Uh -- guys? I believe the signs say 'Keep Out'. Not in so many words, but they definitely give the message that we should turn back at --" A hard jab to his kidneys stole his breath and effectively shut his mouth.

"Shut up and get in."

Because of the narrowness of the passage, the men ended up one behind the other. Tony found Tim behind him. He slowed down until Tim was nearly leaning on his back. Dropping his voice, Tony checked on Tim.

"How ya doin', Probie?"

"I'm OK." Tim sounded breathless. Tony remembered how he'd found him half-conscious on the floor, and wondered if he had any internal injuries he didn't know about.

"Hang in there, Tim. Gibbs is --"

The man in front of Tony whirled around. Before Tony could defend himself, the guy punched him hard across the jaw. The force of the hit drove him against the wall. Pain drove like a hammered nail into his cheekbone. He blacked out for a second. When awareness returned, he found himself on his knees, pressed against the wall. Tony struggled against the person holding him down, until he heard Tim calling to him.

"Tony! Be still!"

Men's voices rumbled through the corridor, jumbled and confused. He realized that Tim was protecting him, shielding him from the others' anger. Two hard grunts were forced from Tim's body; Tony felt Tim's ribcage convulse against him. He was taking hits meant for Tony.

Alarmed when Tim cried out again, Tony pushed against the wall and made it to his feet. "Stop, stop! I'm up!"

Tim sagged against him, breathing heavy. Unable to offer much support, Tony just set his feet in a wide stance and did his best to keep Tim upright. Someone shoved hard against his shoulder.

"Get going."

Afraid of adding fuel to the anger already building around them, Tony complied. As he turned, his questing fingers found Tim. Patting his side gently, hoping the encouragement he intended was conveyed, Tony continued forward. He was relieved when Tim briefly bumped into him and whispered, "I'm OK," before falling back and following behind.

The ground began sloping downward. Tony stumbled when the floor seemed to drop away beneath him, but then realized they'd moved into a type of stairwell. Whatever faint lighting they'd had faded away. Someone near the front switched on a flashlight, and the beam cut through the darkness like a laser. Another flashlight shown from the rear, so the blackness was held at bay again.

They walked for what seemed like hours. The air turned cooler and damp. Tim stumbled against him once, grunting when he rammed into Tony's back. Tony set his feet, allowing Tim to regain his balance, but they continued walking quickly, afraid their captors would start hitting them again. Although his feet found a rhythm, a sort of mindless cadence, his thoughts churned. He was so engrossed, he almost missed the moment when they came to the end of the passage. They all stopped. Tony bumped lightly into the man ahead of him, then felt Tim do the same behind him. A squeak announced the opening of a door, then light flooded the corridor. For a moment, Tony was blind. He squeezed his eyes closed and moved forward unwillingly as hands grabbed him and pulled him.

Finally, he blinked his eyes open. It took a moment to adjust, and by then they'd walked into an underground room. It had to be underground, but how in the world they'd dug out this much space and managed to get the equipment down here to fortify the walls with concrete and these huge beams, was beyond his comprehension. He was aware of his mouth hanging open in awe, but he made no attempt to close it. Instead, he turned to McGee.

He gasped when he first caught sight of his partner. McGee's face was bruised and bloodied. From his hunched position, Tony guessed his ribs were hurting, too. But the expression on Tim's face mirrored his own: awe. It looked like they'd hit pay dirt. And when McGee caught his eye and gave a small nod, Tony knew he was right.

The calm moment was short lived.


	2. Chapter 2

**DiNozzo's Rule, #1**

Shellie Williams

**Summary:** _McGee and DiNozzo find themselves in a dangerous situation with only each other for backup. With each willing to give his life so the other can survive, will either of them make it out alive?_

"Take them to the racks in the main passageway and tie them down across from each other." Frazier's order brought men who quickly surrounded Tim and Tony. Tony heard Tim cry out, then lost him in the confusion. He fought back as much as he could, but the close proximity of the other men, and with his arms tied behind his back he couldn't lift his arms to strike back. Grips tightened around his arms and jerked harshly, nearly yanking his limbs from their sockets. He shouted and cursed, but no one seemed to be listening to him.

Someone turned him and pushed him backwards. Instead of falling, he grunted loudly when he came up short against something metal. Hands untied him and stretched his arms above his head, and he felt restraints encircle his wrists and ankles. The others backed away, but one man punched Tony across the face, then jabbed him hard in the belly. Tony hunched forward, catching his breath. When he could breathe again he lifted his head. He found himself tied to some sort of metal framework. An aisle about three yards wide separated him from an identical rack across the way. Tim, tied in a similar fashion, faced him. He must have been hit, too, because his head hung low and his shoulders pumped as he breathed heavy through his mouth. Blood dripped from his lips, splattering in strange Rorschach patterns on the concrete floor.

"Tim."

McGee lifted his head.

"We're going to get out of this. You know Gibbs is --" Frazier walked into his field of vision and Tony clamped his mouth closed.

"I'm going to enjoy this." Grinning, Frazier walked quietly down the aisle between them, then turned and retraced his steps. "I'll be dead by morning, either by the Russian mob or West Side, so it's not like I have anything to lose."

"You shouldn't talk about yourself that way." Tony grinned when Frazier turned his way. "You're still young; you have so much to live for."

Anger twisted Frazier's mouth for a second, then his lips spread into a wide grin. "You -- always with the jokes." In one step he moved in close and pressed against Tony. Tony drew back as far as he could, turning his head away from Frazier's sneer. "I don't think you'll be so funny when I'm through with you, you son of a bitch." Frazier reached out and slapped the side of Tony's head. Tony grunted and squinted with the sting, but didn't say anything.

Frazier pulled away. He moved toward McGee, but kept his eyes on Tony. "I've lost everything. Even if I don't die tonight, I'll see nothing but a prison cell and prison walls for the rest of my life. I think it's only fair that you lose something, too, don't you think?" A maniacal grin stretched his lips wide. He watched Tony's reaction as he shifted closer to McGee. "Something very important to you. Something almost as important as the empire I've lost tonight." He drew close to McGee. "But what could be that important to you? Oh, I know." He snatched McGee's throat and shoved his head back against the metal frame. "Your partner!"

Tony's lips pressed together in a thin line. He held still, watching, and tried not to let his feeling of helplessness overpower him.

"What? Nothing to say?" Frazier tightened his fingers around Tim's throat and noticed with interest how his actions seemed to be affecting Tony's breathing, as well. "No jokes to lighten the mood?" He released Tim. McGee took a choking, raw-sounding breath and began coughing. He turned his head to the side, struggling to regain his breathing.

With two long strides, Frazier was back in Tony's face. "I'm going to make this last as long as I can."

Tony controlled his urge to spit in Frazier's face. He knew anything he did now would only feed Frazier's fire, and he refused to be the source of McGee's pain, even indirectly. Instead, he did nothing. He didn't grin or laugh, or show any type of reaction, and watched with satisfaction when confusion danced briefly across Frazier's face. Then, with a mighty roar, Frazier turned and rushed at McGee. He slashed his fist across McGee's face twice, then stabbed his knuckles into McGee's gut, over and over, like a boxer sparing with a partner. Tony watched. He grit his teeth when blue tinged McGee's lips because he couldn't catch his breath between punches. He curled his hands into fists when Frazier stopped, and McGee's knees buckled and his body slumped boneless in his bonds.

Frazier twisted to look at him, grinning like an idiot, arms bowed and knuckles raw from hurting McGee. "You can't stay silent forever, funny man." Laughing, Frazier walked away.

Tony waited, counting minutes in his head. He watched McGee breath, and heard the first groan rumble from his mouth.

"Tim?"

Tim's brow furrowed, as if he were trying to think of something, but his eyes didn't open.

Tony gave him a minute, then tried again. "McGee?" When Tim didn't answer, Tony began to lose patience. Tim speaking to him equaled Tim living, and he needed to hear him speak. "McGee, buddy, you gotta hang in there, man. Frazier's lost it, and he seems to be getting his jollies by using you as his personal punching bag." Tony closed his eyes and leaned his head back to rest against the frame. "This you already know -- sorry." Angry, Tony shook his head. "Damn it, Tony, way to state the obvious."

"Never -- apologize."

Tony's eyes snapped open.

"It's -- a sign -- of weakness."

"Tim! You're alive!"

"How very Abby of you to notice."

Tony grinned then grew serious. "Are you okay? How bad did he hurt you?"

Tim slowly straightened from his slouch. "He hits like a girl." The pain on his face belied his statement. "A 200 pound Amazon girl."

Tony winced in sympathy. "Ouch."

Tim stood up a little straighter. He leaned his head back and shut his eyes. "What's our time frame?"

"Nearly three hours since they took us at the warehouse."

"Only three?" Tim groaned, opened his eyes, and looked at Tony. "It feels a lot longer than that."

"Yeah. Time flies when you're having fun, doesn't it?"

"I'm just hoping this bunker, or whatever it is, isn't lined with iron or something."

Tony took a look around, paying special attention to the ceiling high above. "That would certainly have an effect on the signal. Who do you think built this place?"

"Aliens from Mars?"

Tony grinned and pulled his gaze back to McGee. "Abby's going to have a field day, isn't she?"

Tim's soft laugh turned into a cough. He gasped. His hands, stretched out away from his sides, clenched into tight fists.

Tony watched with growing alarm. "McGee -- Tim, take it easy."

McGee's head fell back and his lips rolled in against his teeth. "Can't -- breathe." He sucked in a horribly strained breath and coughed again.

"Yes, you can. You're talking, so you're breathing. Just calm down, now. Calm down." Tony waited, watching as Tim's chest slowed its frantic pumping. "That's it. Take it easy, Tim. Just breathe." His own heartbeat thrummed loud through his head as his blood pressure rose. Watching Tim suffer was worse than going through a beating. He'd prefer the beating to seeing this.

"S-sorry about that." Tim's breathing slowed. Beads of sweat dappled his upper lip and brow. He held his breath and swallowed, then opened his eyes and looked at Tony. Surprisingly, a weak grin twitched across his lips. "You look -- worse than I feel. You wouldn't be -- worried about me or -- anything -- would you?"

Tony schooled his features and felt the tension leave his forehead. "Worried? Me? About you?" He shook his head and pursed his lips. "Nah."

Tim smiled and leaned his head back. "Thanks, Tony."

Tony didn't answer. Instead, he studied their surroundings. "We gotta get you out of here."

"Gibbs said he'd --"

"I know what Gibbs said. But the plan didn't include you going three rounds with Mike Frazier Tyson, either. You've probably got some busted ribs and who knows what else going on in that skinny body of yours." He glanced at McGee. "How's your gut?"

McGee grunted. "Hurts."

"I bet." Tony took a deep breath. "Okay, Phase One is complete: we've found the source. This is obviously the base of Frazier's operation and where he's kept all of his supplies. We can figure out exactly what this place is and where it came from, later. Right now our number one objective is contacting Gibbs."

"You don't think our signal's getting through anymore?"

"I don't want to take that chance. Luckily, they didn't search us when they brought us in here. I've still got my cell phone."

"Me, too. But if the signals of our embedded tracking devices are blocked, so will our cell phones."

"I know. Did you notice the room we passed with all of the technology and computer equipment?"

"I wasn't noticing much of anything when we came in here but some very close up views of a bunch of fists and knuckles."

Tony winced. "Yeah, me too. But I caught a glimpse of a room I think we can use, if we can just get in there. How's your bladder holding out?"

Surprised at first, then understanding where he was going, Tim blinked. "Could it be that easy?"

"Oldest trick in the book is usually in there because it works."

Tim was about to answer but he caught sight of Frazier walking towards them. Instead, he closed his mouth and watched as he drew closer. He tried not to react when he saw the knife, but couldn't help looking to Tony for help. Tony must have seen the weapon about the same time. His eyes widened and slid to McGee. They locked gazes for a moment, then shifted their eyes to Frazier.


	3. Chapter 3

**DiNozzo's Rule, #1**

Shellie Williams

**Summary:** _McGee and DiNozzo find themselves in a dangerous situation with only each other for backup. With each willing to give his life so the other can survive, will either of them make it out alive?_

"You probably think you know everything about me." He sauntered over to stand in front of Tony. Clasping both hands in front of him, he stood looking up at his victim. "Right? I'm sure you did all kinds of background checks and found my records."

Tony saw Tim open his mouth and jumped in, hoping to keep Frazier's focus on him. "Grew up in Spokane, Washington. Lived there until you were twelve when your parents divorced, then moved with your mom to San Diego, California."

Frazier nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest, being careful of the knife. He gestured with one hand. "Keep going."

"You fell into the wrong crowd and got arrested the first time when you were fifteen for breaking and entering. Guess you had to find a way to finance your new crack habit. Some people were born dumb, others just want to be that way."

"Tony."

McGee's soft warning went unnoticed. "In and out of Juvy Hall until you were eighteen when you hit the big time. You served five years for assault and battery on a minor, then dropped off the grid."

Frazier shook his head. His eyes rolled to the ceiling as he seemed to contemplate. "Those were good times."

"You showed up in 2001 in Washington, D.C. with ties to the Russian Mafia and some local street gangs. Your name kept popping up along with some big wigs, as you grew more powerful. Then you got stupid and killed a marine."

Frazier laughed but there was no smile on his face. He shifted closer to Tony and dropped his arms to his sides.

"That was your big mistake, because you see then, you got _our_ attention. And once you're on the NCIS radar, there's no way out."

Frazier suddenly reached and grabbed the frame above Tony's head. He pulled himself up, crowding in close, shoving his face rudely into Tony's face. Tony turned away, but he couldn't escape. "You Navy idiots are all alike. You think you know everything." Releasing one hand, Frazier pressed the tip of the knife blade against Tony's cheek. He grinned when he heard McGee's sharply indrawn breath behind him. "But you missed something."

Afraid to move, trying hard to curtail his breathing, Tony held still. "Yeah? What's that?"

Without warning, Frazier nicked Tony's skin, then let go and shifted back to the aisle. He watched a tiny bead of blood grow on Tony's cheek, then trickle slowly down his skin.

"I went to college for two and a half years."

"What?"

Tony clenched his teeth together to keep from cursing. _Shut up, Tim! Don't you see he's baiting you?_ He could tell by the way Frazier kept his eyes on Tony, but aimed his words at McGee. He wanted to engage the computer geek; get him interested; get him talking. The more surprised McGee was by whatever attack Frazier was planning, the more vulnerable he would be, and the more Tony would suffer watching it.

Still breathing hard from believing Frazier was about to kill him, Tony slowly turned his head to watch his attacker. His cheek burned where the blade had nicked him, but he knew it was nothing compared to whatever Frazier was going to do next. He tried to regain Frazier's attention and draw him back.

"Impossible. We would have found that. Where'd you go – the College for Dummies?"

But Frazier wasn't buying. He slowly backed away from Tony, moving closer to McGee.

"I was pre-med. Attended California Medical College in San Diego under an alias."

Alarmed, Tony tried his best to twist a sneer across his face. "You're lying."

"I can prove it." Reaching McGee, Frazier turned suddenly, grabbed the front of McGee's shirt, and ripped it open.

"NO!" Tony couldn't seem to get enough air as he watched Frazier grin at him and press the blade tip against McGee's side. McGee sucked in a breath, lifting his ribcage and flattening his stomach. He pressed hard against the frame behind him.

"Do you know how much pressure it takes to break through human skin?"

Tony licked his lips. "Wait, I know this one."

"No you don't." He slid his arm around McGee and pulled him close against his side. When Tim started to struggle he ordered: "Be still!" Tim froze but his ribs expanded and retracted with his heavy breathing. "Don't move. When placed against the skin and pressure is applied gently, it takes about four pounds of pressure to break through --" All eyes focused on the blade as the point began to dimple McGee's flesh. "-- but once it passes the threshold of the skin, there's no resistance, and the blade will penetrate deeply. So hold perfectly still, computer geek, or you'll hurt yourself."

Tim's breathing stuttered through his chest. The pressure against his skin increased. Unable to watch, he squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away. Just as it seemed as if the knife would stab through him, Frazier pulled it away. Tim's knees buckled and he sagged against the frame, breath shuddering out of him.

"But when the blade travels at a greater speed --" Holding the knife like a rapier, Frazier thrust forward quickly into McGee's side while Tim cried out loudly, and withdrew just as quickly "-- penetration occurs readily without any additional pressure."

"You son of a bitch." Tony growled and flung himself against his bonds, fingers curled like claws reaching for Frazier.

Calmly, Frazier cleaned the blade against his leg. "It'll take hours for him to bleed out, providing the blade didn't nick anything vital." Grinning, he walked away.

"Tim!" Tony couldn't help but pull against the restraints holding him. "How bad is it?"

Gasping, struggling for air, McGee tucked his chin against his chest and looked at the wound. Blood oozed slow and bright against his pale skin. Sweat rolled down his face and slicked his body. He dropped his head back against the frame. "It's --" He blinked when sweat rolled into his eyes and licked his lips. "I've seen Ziva with worse paper cuts."

"Tim, look at me." Tony waited until he caught McGee's eyes. He swallowed with the raw pain and fear he saw there. "No jokes, Tim. I'm getting you out of this, you hear me?"

Tim closed his eyes and nodded. "I hear you. I just don't know how the hell you're going to do it."

Tony sighed. Silently, he wondered the same thing.

The lights overhead flickered. The heavy vibrating sound of computers running died away, then groaned back to life.

Tony turned his wrist and looked at his watch. "Right on time. That means our signals are still working. We're changing Phase Two into 'escaping' instead of 'contact Gibbs' I don't think the Boss'll mind." He glanced down the aisle as men's voices began shouting. "We need to get out of here before Frazier comes back and uses us as a shield, or worse, decides to finish us off." Working quickly, Tony braced his heel against the toe of his other foot and began sliding off his shoe. Once it was off, he hooked the shoe with his toes and gently lifted it.

"Careful."

Tony kept his eyes on the shoe. "I know -- I've only got one shot at this." He hefted the shoe carefully, then with a quick jerk, he tossed it into the air. It somersaulted perfectly into his left hand. "Got it!" Working it around with his fingers, he grasped the heel and knocked the shoe against the frame he was tied to. After a brief moment of panic when he almost lost his grip, the heel finally separated. The shoe fell to the concrete, leaving a small-bladed knife clenched in his fist. Turning the blade to point downward, he began sawing at the leather cuffs restraining his wrist. Within moments, he freed his hands and began working on his ankles. Tim kept watch as he worked, and flinched when he suddenly found Tony beside him.

"That was fast."

Tony began working on Tim's bonds. "I've had a lot of practice escaping from restraints like these." He grinned and slipped into his Sean Connery voice. "I'm feeling very James Bond right now."

Tim smiled, grateful for Tony's efforts to keep his mind from dwelling on their escape. "A knife hidden in your shoe? That's more Maxwell Smart's cup of tea, isn't it?" Tony grunted but didn't otherwise respond.

The last strap snapped. McGee's knees folded, but Tony caught him. "Easy there, Probie. Just hang onto me for a second, then I'll get your ankles free."

Tim took a deep breath. He leaned back against the frame and closed his eyes. He tucked one arm around his body and pressed his hand against the wound in his side. "No time -- hurry, Tony."

Making sure Tim wouldn't collapse again, Tony leaned over to cut the rest of the cords holding McGee to the rack. When he was finished, he straightened and wrapped his arm around Tim's waist. Despite needing both hands to maneuver them safely to the floor, he kept his grip on the knife, just in case. It was like having a toothpick in a sword fight, but it was better than nothing. Gently, carefully, he helped McGee step down off the frame and onto the concrete floor, uneasily aware of the tremors shaking through Tim's body.

"There now, that wasn't too bad, was it?"

Eyes still closed, breathing harsh, Tim just shook his head. "Let's just get the hell out of here."

Tony agreed. "This way." Quickly, he retrieved his shoe, then pointed them down the aisle, away from the loud voices. "Hopefully, there'll be a backdoor to this fortress." They'd managed only about a hundred yards down a long, dark corridor, when a muffled explosion shook the ground. Losing his balance, Tony stumbled into the wall. He heard McGee grunt with the impact.

"You think Gibbs has found us all ready?" Regaining his feet, Tony kept them moving. He felt Tim shrug.

"I doubt it. That's probably Frazier, destroying what evidence he can. If he can create a big enough explosion, it could act as a smokescreen to cover his exit, plus get rid of most of this complex. I think he's still hoping to make it out of this alive."

"I knew his impending death was too good to be true." Another resounding boom shook the ground. This time, smoke blasted into the passage, thickening the air and impairing their vision. They both began to cough. Tim doubled over, and when his knees gave out, Tony went down with him. They ended up in a folded heap on the floor and discovered clear air. Tony shook his head. "Now, why didn't I think of that? Come on." Crawling on his hands and knees, he pulled McGee with him closer to the wall. Keeping his shoulder against the wall anchored and guided him. They kept going.

Arms shaking, his muscles quivering like jelly, Tony was just about to give up when they arrived at a juncture. Beside him, McGee dropped to the floor, too weak even to speak. Tony sat down next to him, grateful for the solid support of the wall at his back. "We'll -- take -- a break -- just -- for -- a sec." Exhausted, he flopped down next to McGee. He couldn't rest long; fear of being discovered and an almost overpowering need to get McGee to safety kept his mind churning. He rolled his eyes back to study the hallway crossing their path and saw something unexpected on the floor. Surprised, he pushed himself up. "Hey. Are those _railroad_ tracks?"


	4. Chapter 4

**DiNozzo's Rule, #1**

Shellie Williams

**Summary:** _McGee and DiNozzo find themselves in a dangerous situation with only each other for backup. With each willing to give his life so the other can survive, will either of them make it out alive?_

Curiosity overcame Tim's weariness, and he craned his head back to take a look. "Railroad tracks? Here?" With Tony's help, he managed to sit up. His side had stopped bleeding. After a closer inspection, he shook his head. "Not railroad tracks, Tony, but definitely some type of track." He reached for Tony's shoulder. "Help me up. If this is what I think it is, this may be our way out."

Grasping Tim's arm with one hand, and bracing him against his side with the other, Tony slowly stood. He held still for a minute until Tim found his balance, then moved with him when McGee took a step forward.

"Do you know what this is?"

"Some kind of underground railroad system?"

McGee nodded, eagerness infusing his voice. "It's a railway system, yes, but it doesn't carry trains. It carries those." He pointed to a neat line of what looked like platforms on wheels, along with some shallow containers that looked suspiciously similar to the old coalmining cars. "I bet this tunnel leads north, toward the coastline. If I'm right, this is how Frazier's been accumulating and distributing his goods right under our noses. And probably how he brought the supplies and equipment in to build this underground complex in the first place."

"Coastline? Do you know how many miles we are from the Pacific, McGee? This tunnel would have to be miles and miles long."

McGee shook his head. "Not the Pacific. The Potomac. All he has to do is get to the river, then ship the stuff from there to the Pacific Coast, or wherever he's going."

"Smart of you to figure that out."

Tony whirled around at the sound of Frazier's voice, but a hard knock with the butt of a gun against his skull sent him tumbling to the floor.

"Tony!" Before he could react, McGee found himself shoved against the wall. He grunted when his abused body protested the rough treatment. Sharp pain, like an electric arrow piercing his side sent his vision tunneling. Dazed, barely conscious, he heard Frazier speaking to him.

"I bet that hurts, doesn't it?"

Tim heard the smile in Frazier's voice as the man jammed the gun barrel again into his wound. He cried out helplessly and would have collapsed, if not for Frazier pushing him harder against the wall.

"Too bad your partner's not around to offer some comedy relief. I'm sure one of his jokes would be a good tension breaker right about now. Let's you and me take a little trip, shall we?" Snaring his fist in Tim's shirt, he jerked him around and pointed him toward the row of wheeled platforms. Tim stumbled and would have fallen if Frazier hadn't grabbed his arm. Unfortunately, that movement pulled at the muscles wrapped around his side, aggravating his throbbing knife wound. Unwilling to show weakness in front of Frazier, McGee refrained from bracing his hand against his side. Instead, he curled his fingers into a tight fist and did his best to stay on his feet.

When they reached the first platform, Frazier shoved him, hard. The wooden edge caught painfully against his shins before he tumbled onto the flat surface. Immediately, he curled in, wrapping his arms around his body and protecting his injury. Frazier ignored that and stepped up to join him. He reached for a control box and turned a small key. A tiny but powerful motor rumbled to life, vibrating the surface. They rolled out of their docket, turned and aligned onto the main rail, then began to roll away, gathering speed as they traveled. McGee caught a glimpse of Tony as they passed him. He lay on his back, one arm thrown over his head, the other resting against his stomach. Head turned sideways, the blood from his wound created a dark, almost black pool against the concrete.

Despair clenched McGee's heart in a vise. He wondered if he'd ever see Tony alive again.

Pain dug its talon fingers into the top of his skull and tried to separate it from the rest of his head. Tony groaned then clamped his jaw tight when nausea rolled through his gut. Flashes of memory strobbed through his pounding head:

McGee, unconscious, on the floor;

Darkness and beams of light down a long dark corridor;

A cavernous room with concrete beams;

Computers and technology, blinking lights from an open door;

Hands and feet bound with leather against a metal frame;

Frazier's knife, thrusting into McGee's body --

"McGee!" Tony sprang up from the floor then listed sideways when dizziness struck him hard between the eyes. He clamped both hands to his head, then pulled his right hand away and studied it. Blood smeared his palm and fingers. Gingerly, he reached for the back of his head, then hissed when his questing fingers found an open wound. He knew head wounds bled like crazy, but knowing that and seeing his own blood were two completely different things.

Shaken, Tony pushed against the wall beside him and stood. His feet didn't seem to want to cooperate, and he fell hard against the wall. One clear thought wormed through the staggering headache that threatened to send him back to his knees: _Save McGee_. He saw his knife on the floor. Bending over to get it nearly sent him back into darkness, but he somehow managed to keep his feet. Gripping the small weapon in his fist, he pushed away from the wall, swayed for a moment, then took a faltering step forward. _One small step for Tony, one giant leap for McGee_. He grinned with the comparison to an astronaut. _Houston, we have a problem_. Sobering quickly, Tony trailed one hand against the wall for balance and started forward. He walked a drunken path to the wheeled platforms, figuring that was the quickest way to rescue his partner.

"I'm coming, McGee. Just hang on."

McGee curled his fingers around the platform's edge as the engine sputtered and they rolled to a stop. Frazier nearly toppled onto him, but caught himself before he fell. "What the hell?" He began pushing buttons and switches on his control to no avail. Their ride wouldn't budge. Swearing, Frazier slung the control away, hefted his gun in one hand, and pulled McGee from the surface with the other. "Come on -- free ride's over. We walk from here."

When his heels hit the hard concrete floor, pain jarred through his body. Tim hunched forward but Frazier prodded him in the back with his gun.

"Where are you taking me? Where does this tunnel end?" Frazier nudged him again with the gun and McGee started walking.

"You've already figured that out: The Potomac."

"Aren't you afraid your friends from the mafia, or West Side are there waiting for you? Surely they know about this tunnel and where it opens out to." Silence answered his question, and McGee grinned. "We should turn around and head back. If you'll let me contact my team --"

"So they can shoot me and claim I was resisting arrest? No way. Keep walking, geek. I'll figure out what to do when we get to the entrance."

McGee stumbled and let the momentum send him to his knees. It was obvious he was hurting, and instinct told him to play on that and stall for time. "Please -- I need to rest."

Not buying it, Frazier jabbed his knee into McGee's ribs. "Get up." When McGee didn't move fast enough, Frazier drew aim on his head, gripping the gun with both hands. "Or you can die here, that's fine with me."

Holding up one hand in surrender, McGee slowly began to push away from the floor. Halfway up he groaned and started to collapse, falling into Frazier. Instead of stepping out of the way, Frazier reached for him. Biting down on his pain, McGee surged into him, wrapping both arms around his waist and tackling him like a line backer. Unprepared, Frazier went down hard. His head bounced against the concrete floor. McGee reached for his gun, but Frazier retained enough of his senses to realize what he was doing, and wouldn't let it go.

Both arms raised above their heads, grappling for the weapon, they rolled across the floor. Despite the knock to his head, Frazier had an advantage over McGee: he hadn't been stabbed and beaten recently. McGee weakened quickly. Whatever adrenaline source he'd found drained away. He grew weak as a baby, and when Frazier finally jerked away from him and rolled to his feet, he could do nothing but lay on his side, heaving and panting with exhaustion. He watched in trepidation as Frazier sighted down his gun barrel at him, noting how his lips trembled with rage. Forcing a bravado he did not feel, McGee closed his eyes and shook his head.

"You're not going to shoot me." Unbidden, Tony's voice spoke in his head: _That old Jedi mind trick won't work on him, McGee_. Laughing now could get him killed, so McGee silently told the little Tony in his head to shut up.

"And why's that, computer geek?"

"Because I'm your ticket out of here." With a painful groan, McGee shifted to his knees and sat back on his haunches. He pressed his hand to his side. "Even if the Russians or the Gang isn't waiting for you, NCIS will be."

"How could they know --?"

"Because of this." McGee held out one arm, turning it so Frazier could see the underside of his forearm, then tapped a point about midway up with his other hand. "Imbedded tracking device. My team's known where I am the whole time." Hand braced against his knee, McGee pushed himself to his feet. He wobbled, but kept his balance. "Face it, Frazier. It's over."

"That's impossible."

"Think about it; how'd we know where your warehouse was?" McGee saw the moment when Frazier's focus turned inward as he considered the information McGee was feeding him. Tim lifted his arm, palm open, to Frazier. "Why don't you give me the gun?"

Frazier's eyes refocused and glared at McGee. "Give up? Are you crazy?" A growl rumbled in Frazier's chest and grew into a roar as he rushed at McGee, slamming them both into the wall.

The impact drove blackness across his vision and sucked away all sound and feeling. Then everything returned in a flash: deafening noise and a kaleidoscope of bright lights. Tim realized the loud thumping he heard was his own heartbeat in his head. Pain kicked like a sledgehammer through his belly. He folded over Frazier's fist, gagging and coughing for air. Wheezing, he snapped upright again when Frazier pushed his forearm hard against his throat.

Cold metal smacked cruelly into his cheek. It felt as if he'd been branded; fire flared in his cheekbone and spread through his jaw. He flailed uncontrollably when Frazier shook him as if trying to get his attention. Through a haze, he saw Frazier freeze. Abruptly, the man pulled him from the wall and shifted behind him. One arm wrapped around him and clenched tight across his chest. He watched Frazier lift his other arm and aim his gun down the corridor. Confused, McGee tried to figure out what was going on. Then he heard it: a motor. Another platform was coming. With sudden clarity, McGee knew exactly who was coming toward them.


	5. Chapter 5

**DiNozzo's Rule, #1**

Shellie Williams

**Summary:** _McGee and DiNozzo find themselves in a dangerous situation with only each other for backup. With each willing to give his life so the other can survive, will either of them make it out alive?_

Tony rolled into view. McGee grabbed Frazier's arm and pushed it up at the same moment that he fired. The bullet sparked against the wall high above Tony's head. From just a few feet away, Tony dove for them. McGee saw him coming and did his best to avoid the hit, but still managed to receive a jolt that sent him flying.

He rolled to a stop as a single gunshot thundered through the passageway. Alarmed, McGee made it to his feet, then turned quickly and ran for the two figures lying crumpled on the floor. "Tony!" Dropping to his knees, he shoved Frazier away and rolled Tony toward him. "Tony?"

Tony blinked at him and grasped his arms. "McGee? Are you OK?"

Winded, McGee nodded. He felt the moment his strength gave out and knew he'd reached about as far as he could go. Utter relief that Tony hadn't been killed washed over him. His vision tunneled and he fell senseless against his partner.

Tony caught him and gently guided him to the floor, then pressed against his throat for his pulse. A beat hammered against his fingertips and he sighed. "You're just having a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day, aren't you, McGee?"

"No worse than mine."

With a hissed, "Dammit!", Tony whirled around to find Frazier standing above him. He swayed gently, one hand pressed to his belly, attempting to staunch the flow dribbling out between his fingers. The blood loss was significant, judging from the red trail that ran down his shirt and stained the front of his jeans. He lifted his other hand and Tony cursed again when he saw the gun. Why hadn't he secured the weapon? Oh, yeah. A little thing like catching his partner had been his priority at the time.

Frazier lifted the gun and pointed it at Tony. "Move." He gesture with his weapon and Tony noted how it wavered and shook. "Get away from him."

Tony shifted in front of McGee, his eyes on the gun. "What are you going to do?"

Frazier grinned, showing his bloody teeth. "I'm going to kill him, and let you watch him die."

_The hell you say._ Tony ignored the threat and lifted one hand carefully, slowly. "Why don't you lie down and let me take care of that wound, Frazier? You're bleeding pretty badly." Movement against his hand startled him, and he looked down. Though he was still unconscious, McGee had wrapped his fingers loosely around Tony's arm. That unguarded gesture of trust ignited a fierce wave of protectiveness inside Tony that crescendo into a blinding need to keep McGee safe at all costs.

"I don't need your help to die." Frazier glanced down at his wound and pulled his hand away for a moment to look at his bloody palm, then pressed it back against his body. "There's just one thing I want to see before I go --" He lifted his gun and gripped it tighter. "If you don't get out of my way, I'll just shoot you, first." He took a step closer.

Tony waited and watched. His body tensed and he gathered his strength, ready for what he was about to do. He twisted his wrist just a little, gently dislodging McGee's hold. Frazier took another step. Tony surged from the floor, knocked the gun aside, and rammed them both into the wall. Air gushed out of Frazier, and he stood with his eyes wide, staring at Tony. His gaze dropped to his chest, where Tony's small knife stood buried to the hilt.

"You forgot one thing." Not expecting Frazier to answer, Tony continued, "Rule #9: Never go anywhere without a knife." He stepped back. Frazier's knees folded and he collapsed face down, then lay still. Tony pushed against his shoulder with one foot, then kicked the gun away. "And DiNozzo Rule #1: Never mess with my geek."

Turning, Tony walked back to McGee. After checking his pulse again, Tony locked his hands around McGee's wrists and dragged him to the platform. It took some maneuvering and a few hissed curses, but he managed to lift McGee and roll him across the flat surface. He climbed on, sat down next to Tim and wrapped one arm over him to anchor him, then started the engine.

The passageway continued for an impressive length. Sometime during the ride, DiNozzo succumbed to exhaustion and his own injuries and lost consciousness.

Gibbs' earwig crackled. _"Someone's coming, Agent Gibbs."_

"Roger that." Grasping his gun, he aimed it at the double door opening on the back inside wall of the warehouse. The huge building had been constructed against an excavated hillside; cleverly disguising the underground entrance hidden inside. Many buildings here along this mile or so of coastline had similar layouts, so the warehouse raised no suspicions or concerns with its unusual construction.

The faint sound of an engine vibrated through the opening. Moments later, a motorized platform rolled through and slowly came to a stop. Two figures lay on the surface. Gibbs cautiously moved forward, weapon aimed and ready. He sensed other agents closing in around him. Recognition kicked in an instant later and he quickly put his gun away. "Stand down, stand down!"

He reached his men first. Tony and McGee lay curled on their sides, facing each other. Tony's arm was slung across McGee protectively. Both looked the worse for wear. Gibbs reached for Tony and gently rolled him to his back. His eyes narrowed as he took in the various injuries inflicted on his agent. When Tony's eyes fluttered, Gibbs touched his cheek and grasped his arm. "DiNozzo? Can you hear me?"

On the other side of the platform, Ziva arrived and checked on McGee. Supporting his neck, she carefully rolled him toward her. She noticed his shirt had been ripped and pulled it back to study his torso. "Gibbs! McGee has been stabbed!"

Alarmed, Gibbs inadvertently tightened his grip on Tony's arm. The pressure woke Tony and he sat up quickly. He listed sideways. Gibbs caught him. "Easy -- I've got you, Tony."

"Boss?" Confusion wrinkled Tony's forehead. He glanced behind Gibbs, then looked around. His eyes landed on McGee. "Tim!"

"We need EMTs! Where's the ambulance?" Having nothing else to use, Ziva pressed both hands on top of McGee's wound. Two men in EMT uniforms rushed to her side.

Tony reached for them but Gibbs held him back. When Tony resisted, Gibbs pulled him off the platform and onto his feet. His knees wobbled. Gibbs grabbed him around the waist, but Tony still struggled.

"Tony!"

He flinched with the shout and looked at Gibbs.

"They're taking care of McGee; let them do their job."

Tony turned and watched a minute, then refocused on Gibbs. "He's hurt."

Gibbs nodded. "Yeah, I know. You are, too. Come with me and let's get you taken care of." He tugged gently. Tony relented and walked with him. Gibbs found some equipment low enough to sit on and guided Tony to it. He didn't waste any time. "Where's Frazier?"

"Frazier?" Tony blinked. Just as Gibbs was about to repeat the question, Tony answered. "Frazier's dead."

"How'd McGee get stabbed?"

"Frazier tortured us -- tortured me, by torturing McGee in front of me."

"How'd Frazier die?"

Tony looked down at his hands. "I killed him." He rubbed his forehead, weariness dragging at his mouth. "He was going to shoot McGee and I had to -- McGee -- he stabbed McGee -- where's --?" Standing quickly, Tony turned around, but he faltered and collapsed. Gibbs barely caught him before he hit the ground and went down with Tony crumpled in his arms. His fear-edged yell brought more EMTs running. They quickly assessed Tony, carried him to another waiting ambulance, and whisked him away.

Gibbs gestured and another agent ran to meet him. "Frazier's back there, somewhere in the tunnel. Take a couple of men with you and find him. Be careful. We think we have everyone rounded up, but there may be a few stragglers unaccounted for." The young man nodded and left to follow his orders.

Ziva appeared at his side. "They look as if they have been through hell, Gibbs."

He nodded. "They have. Let me put someone in charge of clean up, then we'll go join them. Call Ducky and tell him where they're taking them. He can stay with them until we're there."

Ziva nodded and reached for her phone. Gibbs walked briskly away, determined to delegate his authority and put someone else in charge of the operation, then go check on his men. He couldn't shake that first thought he'd had when he'd realized it was Tim and Tony on the platform: that Frazier was sending him a message wrapped up in his dead men. Instead, Frazier was dead, and McGee and DiNozzo were alive, but that sharp spike of fear still burned within him.

Tony sat munching almonds in the recliner near McGee's hospital bed. It had been a long week of waiting; waiting for surgery outcomes, waiting for test results, and waiting for his hair to grow back in the tiny bald patch on the back of his head. An irritating itch reminded Tony of his injury, and he reached back to gently pat the area. Delicate new hairs met his touch and he grinned.

McGee stirred and opened his eyes. He saw the TV on and DiNozzo sitting across the room. "Anything good on?"

"Sleeping beauty awakens!" Uncrossing his legs, Tony stood and moved to the side of McGee's bed. "How ya feeling there, McSnooze?"

"Better." Patting his bedcovers, he lifted his head and tucked his chin to his chest. "Where's the little thingie --?"

Tony spotted the remote, picked it up, and handed it to McGee. "This what you're looking for?"

"Yeah, thanks." McGee pushed a button and lifted the head of his bed a few inches. Tony turned back to the recliner, but he paused when McGee repeated himself. "I really mean it, Tony. Thanks."

Tony turned back to McGee. "It's just a remote, McGee." His words teased, but his voice grew soft.

McGee looked down at the remote. "I'm not talking about this."

"I know." He waited while McGee gathered his thoughts. He knew this was coming; they hadn't talked about Frazier other than the debriefing Gibbs had given both of them as soon as McGee was coherent enough following his surgery. He clamped down on the instinct that made him want to make a joke and ruin the moment.

McGee stayed silent a moment longer. When he did start speaking, he kept his eyes down. "You saved my life."

Tony reached out and tapped the covers in McGee's line of vision. "Hey." He waited until Tim looked at him. "I was just returning the favor." He smiled, but McGee didn't. Instead, Tim's eyes slid to a spot beyond Tony's shoulder.

"When Frazier had that knife, I thought he was going to -- He nearly --"

"But he didn't." Taking the remote before McGee could worry the cover off, Tony shifted to sit on the edge of the bed. "He'd dead, McGee." Tony's jaw worked as he clenched his teeth. Unused to sharing emotions, he struggled hard to stay serious. McGee needed this. "He can't hurt you anymore."

McGee shut his eyes. His head dropped back to his pillow. "Every time I close my eyes I see him and remember his voice."

"Open your eyes, McGee."

McGee sat back up and opened his eyes.

"He's not here. I killed him." Tony grasped Tim's wrist and gently shook it, then let him go and stood up. "Ducky's performed the autopsy and he's been buried. Once you get out of here, we'll go visit his grave and I'll prove it to you." Bypassing the recliner for a cushioned armchair, Tony hooked it with his foot and dragged it closer to the bed. He turned and sat down. "And I'll be right here to remind you of that every time you wake up."

One corner of McGee's mouth lifted in a half smile. "Why would you do that for me?"

"Why?" Tony laced his fingers together, tucked his hands behind his head, and leaned back. "Because friends watch each other's backs, that's why."

Smiling in earnest, McGee closed his eyes. From the chair, Tony used one hand to click the remote and recline the bed for McGee. Then he tucked his hands back behind his head and sat quietly, until he grew sleepy and closed his eyes, too.

An hour later when Gibbs walked in, he found them both still sleeping. Tony sat in the chair with his head turned slightly to the side, probably so he wouldn't disturb the new baby hairs growing in the surgery spot on the back of his scalp. Gibbs grinned. He noted Tony's arm, stretched out and resting on McGee's bed. McGee lay curled on his side facing Tony, for once, looking relaxed.

The sharp memory of believing they were dead was beginning to dull and move to the back of his mind, replaced with the assurance that they were alive. Settling down in the recliner, Gibbs sighed, linked his hands together over his stomach, and closed his eyes.

**The End**


End file.
